James Bond? Not Likely
by Shego2Drakken
Summary: I was abducted by agents from the future, and told I was to fight a great evil... That definitely wasn't my day..."
1. Default Chapter

AN: This is a rewrite for _The Mismatched Murderer_, which I unfortunately have discontinue because of that stupid "no scripts" rule. Anyway, enjoy.

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It was night.

Night, when the stores closed, their owners going home.

Night, when people generally stayed inside their homes, whether they were rodent, human or otherwise.

Night, when the moon, like London's own personal night light, lit the streets. When Luna, the full moon, ancient symbol of madness, smiled down on London to show its approval.

Night, where no one expected anyone to be out on a night like this.

But someone was.

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A constable strolled past, saw nothing, and moved on. The sooner he got his job done, the sooner he could go home.

Meanwhile, up on the wall of Big Ben, someone watched the constable walk off. If the police mouse were to accidentally glance up at the clock tower, if he looked about halfway to the top, he would see nothing but specks of light. He wouldn't suspect anyone was there...

But someone was.

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The stealth suit-wearing lion/rat hybrid watched the constable leave. "And so the constable cleared out, not comprehending that the concealed crimefighter contemplated over his every move."

"Very rhyming, Veek", the girl said from over the spy was wearing. "Batman would be _so_ proud."

"Cut the chatter, Des", Veeken replied. "I'm working."

"All right", the girl, Des, sighed. "The target should be right below you."

Veeken looked down in time to see the Deerstalker-wearing mouse walk past. "_Just in time_", she thought, and swooped down to the rooftop above the mouse.

Just then, the mouse glanced up, so she had to hide from him, though it wasn't really necessary. "Just think", Veeken thought to herself, "A few months ago I would've worried about what would happen if Basil saw me. But not anymore..."

Tsuzuku...

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Okay, from here on in, this fic's gonna be one gigantic flashback. By the way, has anyone figured out how to do tabs with the editor? The thing deletes tabs for me...


	2. Do Deductions Decline the Detective?

AN: I have updated! Hopefully, this fic will be resembling to "The Mismatched Murderer", only shorter.

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**_Beep-Beep-De-Beep!_**

Veeken yawned as the Kimmunicator beeped. Pressing the activate button, she sleepily asked "What's up?"

"Hey, Veek", the girl on the other end replied. Smiling at the other end was Des, a 16-year old girl to Veeken's 13 years, and temporary gadget girl to the volunteer for Historical Justice, the newly formed branch of Global Justice. "I just called to let you know the shipment of Ice Java you ordered will be coming in soon."

"Thanks, Des. Believe me, if missions are gonna be like this, I'll _need_ it."

Des chuckled. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it. How's testing on the Digital Profile Integrator going?'

"Well, ah..."

"Let me guess: Haven't started yet?"

Veeken sighed. "Nope." She would get around to it eventually. It was just that having to look like someone else for a few minutes didn't exactly appeal to her. "Don't worry. It'll get done... eventually..."

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Basil of Baker Street paced back and forth in his study. This was a peculiar case he had been working on recently. Rodents were being involved in strange incidents where they appeared in certain places, but were also seen in other places at the exact same time.

Not that the detective had been particularly worried, but Mouseland Yard had called him in when no logical soloution could be found. This Basil expected, of course. He couldn't figure out a logical explanation at first, but things were starting to become slightly clearer. Someone was definitely trying to pull the wool over his eyes, and he had a pretty good idea who.

Ratigan.

Only Ratigan would be clever enough to try something like this, yet it seemed so unlike him. Nothing was stolen, no one was harmed... The Professor definitely had a winning plan with this one.

The detective turned his attention to the brown fur under the microscope that Mouseland Yard had found at the last incident...

"Brown?", he half-exclaimed out loud. The last time he checked, the fur was white! The detective's eyes narrowed. The Professor _really_ had a winning plan with this one...

_**Tsuzuku...**_

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All right, one more chapter, then I'll update the fiction simultaneously. All right?


	3. Abductions

Ah, another chapter. Another time when I respond to the reviews.

Dancing Mouse: Yeah, I know it was short. I'm thinking the first chapter was more like an intro to the actual story than a chapter in its own right.

On with the story!

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Professor Ratigan felt like a leech was sucking out his brain through his ear. He tried to figure out what could possibly have caused such agony, but his gradually recovering brain functions didn't stretch to memory just yet. Breathing and lying down was about all he could manage at the moment.

Time to attempt speech. Something short and pertinent. Help, he decided, would be the one to go for. He took a trembling breath and opened her mouth.

"Mummlp" said his treacherous lips. No good. Incomprehensible, even by a drunkard's standards.

What was going on here? He was flat on his back with no more strength in his body than a dead bloodhound. What could have done this to him? Ratigan concentrated, skirting the edge of blinding pain.

The museum? Was that what happened? Did the strange, pale female human from the museum maul her with her claws? That would explain a lot. But no. He suddenly recalled something about the Eye of the Ice Queen. And the opposing villains. And... Where was he, anyway?

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Ratigan sat up, the covers falling away from his chest. A quick check revealed that he was still wearing the clothes he was wearing from last night...

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_Ratigan gasped slightly as the needle pierced the suit, and his eyes widened as he pulled the strange dart from his arm. As the world started to spin, he stared terrified at the strange girl who had bested him._

_"Don't worry", she said reassuringly. "Just a sedative."_

_"Oh..." Then all went black._

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Ratigan growled. Whoever did this would pay...

His eyes darted towards the open doorway. At least something was going his way...

Carefully opening the doorway, he cautiously crept down the hallway on all fours like a cat, testing each area of floor in front of him before moving forward.

He was definitely on a ship, but the motions felt more like they belonged to a larger ship than a small barge that usually docked in the area near his lair...

Reaching a corner in the hallway, he prepared to glance around the corner for signs of others, when a door creaked open near the end of the hall.

Ratigan's muscles tensed under his fur and skin. Judging by the size and shape of the rat, it was the same person who had bested him in the museum.

His breathing became deeper and more rapid.

Unbeknown to him, he started growling, a low thunderous sound.

In short, he was becoming what he swore he never would again.

Finally, he pounced!

He and the strange girl wrestled briefly, tumbling over each other down the hallway, until Ratigan finally had his foe pinned underneath him, her arms pinned in their spread-eagled position, bodies pressed against each other.

In that moment, all thoughts of blood lust and revenge left Ratigan's mind. "_What the...?_"

He had been right. The girl from the museum.

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Veeken raised an eyebrow at Ratigan's expression of shock. The rat had gone from rabid murderer to scared cub in a second. A kitten could have knocked him over and stolen his watch in a second.

Their forms were pressed together, but he was too in shock to think anything of it. His breathing was normal now, and he was relatively calmer now than he had been when he'd attacked her.

Carefully sliding her arms out from where they were pinned down, Veeken carefully slid her body out from underneath him. Slowly standing, she placed a gentle hand on her future father's shoulder.

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Ratigan's eyes widened as he felt the hand on his shoulder. First the abduction, now this! What was going on here?

The girl's hand slowly traced down from his shoulder to-"Oh, God", he gasped. The hand traced a line down his spine, halting at the small of his back, and Ratigan collapsed onto the floor as his arms gave way. The hand was removed, and Ratigan calmed down to get his thoughts in order.

Suddenly-"A-_**HEM**_."

Ratigan looked up to see another rat, about the same age of the first, who must have come in while he was distracted. She smiled, arms crossed over her chest. "Getting to know each other, are we?"

"Oh, ha, ha, ha", Ratigan muttered sarcastically. "Now, will someone help me up?!"

"All right, all right", the first girl laughed. Kneeling, she offered Ratigan a hand, which he cautiously accepted. Slowly, he stood, still a little shaky from the aftereffects of whatever the first girl had done.

The second rat cleared her throat and was all business in a moment. "By the way, Dr. Director wants to talk with you, Veek. Ratigan too."

The girl bowed slightly, and Ratigan slowly walked past. This _was_ confusing...

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Des glanced at Veeken. "What was that all about?"

"What was what all about?", Veeken asked innocently.

"That!", Des exclaimed. "How'd you know he'd do that?"

"I've dealt with him for over a year now", Veeken replied matter-of-factly, blushing. "Personally, I think he's really weird sometimes."

**_Tzuzuku..._**

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Ah, yes, another chapter done. Read and Review, blah, blah, blah. You know the drill.


	4. More Answers, More Questions

Ah, yes, I finally have updated.

Ratigan: Isn't somebody ever going to change me back?

Me: No.

Ratigan: What! Why not?

Me: Simple: You can change yourself back. Super dæmon powers, remember.

Ratigan: Oh. (sullenly changes himself back)

Disclaimer: I own no one except Veeken and Des. Basil and Ratigan belong to Eve Titus and Disney, while any KP characters just belong to Disney. Who don't deserve any of them.

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Dr. Director smiled as Professor Ratigan stalked through the doorway. "Well, if it isn't Professor Moriarty." 

Ratigan glanced up sharply. "What?"

Dr. Director smirked. "Nothing." She stood, holding out her hand. "Welcome aboard the R.L.S. Legacy, Professor."

"Ah, so I _am_ aboard a ship", Ratigan said calmly, shaking the woman's hand. "I _did_ suspect that from the minute I awoke."

"Well, technically yes, and technically no. You see, the Legacy is not necessarily a ship, but a safe house."

"All right, I'll ask." He sat. "What is a 'safe house'?", Ratigan inquired, eyebrow raised.

"If you must ask-"

"I must." Ratigan smirked.

"A safe house is an area set up to keep certain parties safe from any threats, both from threat of attack and threat of the elements; storms and such."

"Oh? I don't remember this being here until as of late, really."

"Actually, it's a recent addition, though you can't really call it a ship."

"Where are you from?", Ratigan asked, suspicious. "The future?"

"Yes", Dr. Director stated matter-of-factly.

Ratigan's jaw dropped. For a minute, there was silence. Then came the explosion. "_**WHAT?**_"

"Well, you _did_ want to know."

Ratigan took the moment to calm down, hoping to prevent any further proverbial explosions from occuring. "My apologies, but this _is_ a bit of a shock to me."

"And you certainly _did_ take it well."

"Back to the conversation: Why did you bring me here?"

"Actually, we're here to hire you."

Cue the second (much smaller) explosion: "_Hire me?_"

"Exactly."

"For what? You don't exactly give me the impression of some secret global organization bent on global domination."

"Well, if you must, know, we're _not_."

"I guessed as much."

Dr. Director cleared her throat. "My name is Dr. Director, head of Global Justice, or GJ if you prefer an acronym."

"Global Justice? Why hire me, then? If you've done your research, you have probably deduced that I'm not exactly the picture of an angel of justice."

"True. But I was getting to that. Recently, a branch of Global Justice was created called Historical Justice, whose duties are to patrol time and make certain the time flow isn't disrupted or altered."

"And?"

"The reason we want to hire you is to have someone who can monitor the world without necessarily standing out. The reasoning for hiring you instead of someone such as your arch-foe would be your connections to the rodent underworld and your network of spies."

"Ah." Ratigan was silent for a moment. "May I pose a question?"

"Go ahead."

"If you are truly from the future, as you say, then people in the future have devised methods of time travel?"

"Exactly. It's just our misfortune that supervillains from our time have discovered said methods as well."

"And what if I don't want to join?"

"Actually, you don't have much of a choice."

Ratigan's expression of shock was enough to go by. "Why?"

"Most, if not all of your henchmen at the lair think you have vanished, either dead or arrested. And there still is the matter of not knowing where you are..."

Ratigan frowned as he took this in. This organization certainly had all their bases covered... for now. He had been slightly disoriented by the revelations, but he would regain his composure and figure a way out. Even if it meant siding with these people. He sighed. "So... When do I start?"

"We will begin training tomorrow. Until then, your room is the last right in the corridor, and the kitchen is at the end of the hallway due left."

Ratigan silently nodded. When the woman stopped, Ratigan took that as a signal to leave the room. Which he did, ignoring the questions that he wanted to ask. How did they know about me? How much did they know about me? Why do they think I can manage these duties?

...Why me?

This rather odd inner monologue had left Ratigan mentally unconscious to the world around him.

The girl had been carrying a pile of strange things from a different room, her concentration fixed on keeping them balanced in her arms. They weren't breakable or fragile, but still...

The two met in a rather indignant crash. Not enough to knock one or the other over, but enough to knock the things out of the girl's arms.

"Oh, excuse me."

"My bad."

Ratigan kneeled simultaneously with the girl, picking up some of the odd items and placing them into a semi-legible pile. This, ironically, was the same thing the girl was doing.

"Let me just get this for you."

"Don't worry, I can handle it."

One of the few items remaining on the ground was a strangely-shaped device with a few buttons and an odd black square. Ratigan automatically reached for it. So did the girl. When her hand had touched it, Ratigan's ended up on top of hers.

"Oh..."

The two rodents looked at each other in slight shock for the second time in so many hours. Ratigan stared down at the girl, willing his mind to explain the feelings that had arisen from seeing her now.

"Um... hello?"

Ratigan realized the girl was talking to him. "Oh... sorry about that." He lifted his hand away from the girl's. "I suppose I wasn't really paying attention." He sighed, thankful he was able to string together a sentence. "Do you need any help with these... things?"

"Nah, I'll go get a box." She chuckled. "Wonder why I didn't think of that in the first place."

Ratigan smiled. "Good point."

The girl stood and walked off. Ratigan watched her leave, noting the leonine tuft of fur at the tip. Where had he seen her before...?

Shaking his head, Ratigan proceeded to his room and shut the door. The light was enough to see by, but still dim. "Um... lights?"

The singular light fixture on the wall brightened significantly. Ratigan looked around the room. "Very nice." The room had been furnished as if they knew he was coming. All it was missing was-"Damn." He half-expected a bottle of expensive wine in an ice bucket. Nothing. But there were more important matters at hand. "Who was that girl?", he inquired.

He sat on the bed, a sudden memory flashing in his brain...

_He was slumped over on the ground, back in the strange forests.__ Stepping towards him was the strange girl from before. Suddenly, what sounded like a choir of different voices started to address him._

_"This task was appointed to you, Professor James Ratigan."_

_The girl bent down to him, a kind smile on her face._

_"If you do not find a way, no one will."_

He blinked as he pulled his mind out of that particular memory. "So", he said aloud. "We meet again."

He sank onto the bed. When he first awoke, he was completely disoriented and without a plan. Now the shoe was on the other foot. The first thing he would have to find out, however, was who this strange girl was...

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All right, another chapter done. Now I can start another chapter of Ghosts of the Past Live On, which has recieved an odd upsurge of reviews... 


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